Crossroads
by xtwilightzx
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Fuuma grants Tokyo’s citizens a brief respite and offers an interesting insight to Kamui.


**Crossroads**.

On Christmas Eve, Fuuma grants Tokyo's citizens a brief respite and offers an interesting insight to Kamui.

**_AN: Ehehehe… unexpected fic that just ran away from me Fuuma is one crazy tough cookie to crack and every time I try to pin him down he just slithers away. Not too sure how I did with him. I actually really like this fic, for all that it's more introspective then fluffy like a Christmas fic should be, but yeah. _**

**_For all the lovely X writers out there and especially to Emi-chan, whom I am starting to run out of words for ;;. A strange, semi-gloomy fic for my prey-kun. (sorry, apparently "fluffy" does not register in my writer's mind. Blame the muse points at Sei-chan) Loves and hugs for all the laughter, manga and pure insanity._**

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Tokyo was a mesmerizing pattern of black and white, a monochrome picture that showed only flat plain lines and sharp edges. If one ignored the rumble and floods in the shadows, the city could almost look untouched by ruin.

Kamui was ensconced atop Tokyo Tower, cloak wrapped securely around his slender frame. His eyes traced a faint line of destruction and halted at the sight of a small cluster of lights.

It was a small gathering, Kamui realized. Softly, covertly, people had returned to Tokyo, as if defiant of the constant earthquakes that wrecked the city. Here and there, buildings under the protection of the remaining Kekkai stood tall and steady, guarded by CLAMP campus's superior regulation, ready to alert the Dragons of Heaven at any hint of an imminent attack.

Tonight, another pair of amethyst eyes had joined those electronic monitors. Tonight, Kamui was determined to protect these brave, indomitable people from the Dragons of Earth.

Tonight, on the eve of Christmas, Kamui would keep up his vigil, and he would _not_ relent.

He felt a questing touch at the edge of his mind, and smiled faintly as the other Seals tried to verify his location. Closing his eyes briefly, he concentrated and sent back assuring vibes to the other six Dragons of Heaven, each celebrating the coming Christmas in their own special way.

Sorata, Arashi and Yuzuriha were at CLAMP campus, probably fraternizing with the Chairman and his two loyal shadows. Karen and Aoki were out in the city, each enjoying a cup of coffee. A mental stamp, like a maternal kiss on the forehead, accompanied Karen's response, and he knew she secretly applauded him for his decision to take up this watch upon the city. Of Subaru, there was no response. Kamui could only hope his Christmas wasn't spent in cold lonely reveries of his sister. He could not decide if running into the Sakurazukamori was a blessing or curse for the Sumeragi head.

Kamui knew how easy it would be for them to find him, to drag him home into an embrace of warmth and companionship on this night. They, after all, were Dragons of Heaven, thus charged with the duty of protecting their Kamui until the Promised Day arrived and it would be extremely troublesome ("Disastrous!" Kamui could almost imagine Sorata screeching) if they could not find him. They had left him alone, respecting his decision, perhaps understanding his need to think on his own.

It gave Kamui a fleeting sense of control and he grasped at the opportunity.

Winter was here, Christmas dawning in a few scant hours and the herald of the Promised Day soon to come.

A faint presence brushed through his senses, and a hand swept through his hair. Kamui snapped open startled eyes only to be caught in the steady gaze of his twin star, looking down at him calmly over the top of those perpetual sunglasses.

"Fuuma!" Choking over his words in shock, Kamui backpedaled until his back touched unyielding steel. In his hurry, the wind pulled his cloak loose, stealing away the liquid material. Its path halted when Fuuma's hand shot out to grab it from the air.

"Really, Kamui-kun. I expected you to notice my presence long before I arrived here." Was it possible to melt ice cream with one's voice? If so, Fuuma could definitely accomplish it; Kamui could feel the smirk radiating off his twin star even if his face was hidden by shadow.

Pushing his half fear, half elation down, Kamui stepped away from the scant shelter of the Tower's steel supports. "What are you doing here?" he asked, eyes narrowed and body poised – for fight or flight, Kamui himself didn't know. All he knew was that around his twin star, he could not let his guard down.

The low rich chuckle sent a ripple of shivers down his spine. "Relax, Kamui," Fuuma almost purred, stepping out into view, Kamui's errant cloak folded over one arm. "It's not the Promised Day, so I won't do anything."

_Not yet_. The words hung between them, like a physical wall. Kamui did not relax.

"So very paranoid," Fuuma's voice was mocking. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I will destroy nothing this night?"

"What?" Kamui was caught off guard. He had not been expecting those words.

Fuuma turned to gaze over the panoramic view, amber eyes contemplative. He swept one hand outwards, long coat billowing behind him impressively. "It is the Wish of countless people in this city to spend one last, happy Christmas in this city." His voice was even, almost indifferent. "Since an overwhelming amount of them possess this singular Wish, I've decided to grant it."

A cold dark smile spread across his face. "The Promised Day will arrive and the Earth will receive its revolution. Regardless of what happens, humanity will be destroyed." His eyes swept to capture Kamui's in a gaze that could not be broken. "The future has been decided." He stated simply, with none of the usual heat and conviction in his voice. "I can afford to give them a night of happiness before all hell breaks loose."

"So, you might as well give up this meaningless vigil. It's rather pointless, don't you think?"

A low growl sounded from the back of Kamui's throat. "Don't you _dare _tell me what I'm doing is pointless," he hissed.

"Go _home_, Kamui-kun. Enjoy what little respite I choose to give you before I close those sweet purple eyes of yours permanently."

"I said _no!_" the words burst from Kamui's mouth, heat, conviction and no small amount of magical overtone accompanying it.

Fuuma gave him an appraising look before all emotion flickered out of his face, like shutters drawn down in one swift motion over a wide window. "So very stubborn. Still so stubbornly _stupid_." Fuuma's voice was deadly soft. "I missed out last time, when the little inugami master's pet materialized. _I can still break that arm_."

A silver of a smile. "But I won't."

Kamui stared back at him mutely, hands loose and held forward to his side in defense, a twitch going through his body at the remembered pain. Was he being toyed with again? _Since when did Fuuma not take any chance to break me?_

The older boy was opening stalking him, eyes challenging even as he drew closer to his twin star. The overly satisfied look on his face told Kamui volumes about Fuuma; his presence had devastating effects upon Kamui, and Fuuma knew how to take advantage of that leash.

Kamui stood his ground, unwilling to give in to all the instincts screeching at him to run. Whatever Fuuma was going to do, Kamui would not run. _The Promised Day is coming_, he told himself firmly. _If I can't even face him, how can I bring Fuuma back_? Halfheartedly, he called up his innate magic, energy gathered in the palm of his hand and held, just enough to fling his adversary back.

Still, he couldn't help flinching slightly as Fuuma drew closer… and draped Kamui's cloak heavily over his shoulders.

Kamui stared at the older boy in shock, the cupped power dissipating with a silent crackle as his concentration wavered and snapped. Fuuma ignored his twin star's amazing parody of a fish pulled out of water and merely swirled the material around Kamui's neck, tucking the ends securely inside folds. His touch was very familiar – it was so much like the old Fuuma's, reassuring and warm.

Kamui's eyes flirted everywhere, settling on anything but the person before him, his mind racing to analyze the situation. Was it just another of the Dark Kamui's games, to taunt him with memories of the past before moving onto more painful actions? If it was a plot designed to put him at ease, then it both passed and failed; Kamui's mind kept flashing to the old Fuuma, but his entire body was taunt – in anticipation, excitement, _what_, Kamui did not know.

"So suspicious," Fuuma murmured, "still so very easy to break, even when I do nothing."

"Why are you acting like Fuuma?" The hands on Kamui shoulders were still, no longer roaming, not inflicting any bodily damage, but…

"I told you," Fuuma cut in smoothly, ignoring Kamui's words. His grip tightened briefly. "It is the Wish of these people that Tokyo remains unscathed for this Christmas, and it extends, unfortunately, to include not provoking any fights from you."

"Can you blame me for thinking otherwise?" Kamui countered, bitterness seeping into his words. "Every meeting we've had has been one long string of pain for me, physical and psychological, while you toy with us Seals like a cat with a caged bird." He swung his arms up and out, knocking Fuuma's hands off his shoulders and stalking away.

"Kamui-kun." Fuuma's voice was pitched in a low timbre. He stared outwards into the sky, face impassive. "It seems that this night we're temporarily out of Destiny's clutches." He pulled off his sunglasses, long fingers folding and tucking the article out of sight. "I wonder what we could accomplish this night."

Purple eyes blinked, guarded and wary. "What do you mean?"

"I mean let's get off this tower and go… somewhere else. There will be enough time later to glut ourselves with memories of Tokyo Tower."

"You…"

"Come now, Kamui. Aren't you curious at all as to why I am merciful enough as to stay my hand tonight? I have my own selfish reasons."

Kamui shifted restlessly. He wasn't used to a Fuuma that was fluctuatingly impassive, biting and… gentle, all in the span of a few minutes. He knew one thing, however – he wanted to get off Tokyo Tower. It was to be the battleground of the Final Battle, and all the talk of the Promised Day was churning Kamui up inside.

He also had to admit that this Fuuma intrigued him. Perhaps it was because of his twin star's almost kind gestures, but Kamui found himself wary but calm in his presence.

"Fine," Kamui said. "Let's go."

He moved to jump off the tower when a large hand snagged his wrist firmly. He reacted immediately, twisting his arm to escape, but the grip only tightened. He raised angry accusing eyes.

"No matter what you think, Kamui, I'm not the old Fuuma."

Fuuma's voice was indifferent, but his eyes burned with an inner light that spoke otherwise. Bereft of the barrier of sunglasses, Kamui could see their amber-gold gleam – deep and predatory.

There was a hidden message within those orbs; Kamui could not decipher it. But a mild sort of understanding hovered just out of reach in his mind. It was hauntingly vague, but substantial enough so that he gazed unflinching, unblinkingly back at Fuuma and utter words he knew was true in his heart.

"I know you're not."

Those eyes flickered. He noted the condescending smile before Fuuma released his wrist and leaped off the edge, coat flaring out behind him, a swirl of energy in his wake. Kamui followed suit, shutting down all connections to the rest of the Seals. He wanted no interference this night.

He tailed Fuuma, following the obvious trail of magical residue like a bird making its inexorable way south for the winter. Sometimes he saw Fuuma, gliding between buildings, a dark figure against an even darker background. Once, he caught the Angel sweeping down like a plunging eagle, and even from a distance Kamui could identify a feral concentration, perhaps a savage joy of being able to break all the flimsy laws of physics as easily as breathing air.

They alighted in the middle of a deserted street. Wondering why Fuuma had chosen such a spot to stop, Kamui looked about him, trying to connect the dark, barely visible landmarks with the daytime Tokyo he knew so well. They weren't near any major kekkai, a fact Kamui was heartily grateful for; in fact, they were out beyond the area of Tokyo Kamui was intimately familiar with.

They had been traveling in the opposite direction, away from Tokyo Tower and CLAMP Campus. A considerate act not to venture near kekkai in regards to Kamui's duty, Kamui wondered, or deliberate attempt to separate him from his allies?

His analysis completed, Kamui returned his attention to his twin star, curiosity blooming despite himself. Face half raised to the sky, Fuuma stood, unheeding of the snow's cold touch, apparently deep in thought. A striking figure in black, silhouetted in faint moonlight, face impassive and those amber eyes the only hint of color in that monochrome tableau.

The image of a man who was truly hunted with the majesty of God.

"What are you thinking about?"

Like a tiger stirring from slumber, Fuuma gave a deep, lazy roll of his shoulders, the longish coat sweeping back with the motion. "I was thinking of my Wish. And yours, of course."

Kamui took the opportunity to step forward, his body rapidly cooling in wind and snow now that he wasn't actively moving. Cautiously, more of a testing barb than any real curiosity – "Care to enlighten me?"

After all, it wasn't as if Fuuma was going to hand him a weapon – and it was a weapon, to know one's deepest Wish – on a silver platter.

Predictably, Fuuma merely chuckled, a rich sound resounding in the almost silence. "And why would I give my nemesis the upper hand, Kamui-kun?"

Kamui shrugged, letting the question fall unanswered. "Always worth a try."

A bolt of energy crackled, cradled within slender fingers. "If you actually tried to _see_," Fuuma said, moving his hand in front of his face, gazing at Kamui through the filter of power. "Then you'll find that some of the world's mysteries aren't very well hidden."

Kamui froze.

Drifting snow flakes fell into the torrents of white waves with dry sizzles in mute emphasis of Fuuma's statement. The illumination died abruptly when Fuuma closed his fingers around the ball of light, absorbing the excess energy negligently.

"Coming?" he shot over one shoulder, turning away without waiting for Kamui's answer.

As if the words had unlocked a heavy bolt within him, Kamui felt an abrupt sense of displacement. The wind swept across his skin, soft, downy touches as if feathers, not snow, were blowing around them. For a moment, Kamui's vision split and as he struggled to refocus his eyes he could almost, _almost_ see long strands, ribbons loped across Fuuma's limbs, like the strings attached to control a puppet. He raised one hand thoughtlessly in an attempt to catch hold of those ethereal bonds, and found his wrist swath in thin strips of cloth, gently holding him down.

"Fuuma, what's going on?" Kamui whispered, trying to catch up to his twin star. His vision blurred further and his eyes watered as he blinked frantically. One hand brushed against soft fabric and he snagged onto it, fingers curling tightly into the material.

He heard a soft sigh and felt his grip slip away as Fuuma spun around to face him. Gold orbs hovered in the middle of his eyesight and Kamui focused on that, using that point of reference to pull the rest of his vision into focus. Two hands settled around his waist and Kamui yipped as he was raised bodily off the ground, his clearing vision and the sudden motion causing mild vertigo. Instinctively Kamui fumbled for a hold, somehow latching onto Fuuma's collar, and as he did he felt a faint tugging and a sudden release as Fuuma pulled him free from the rising snowdrift.

"Almost _pitiful_." Fuuma remarked blandly, swinging Kamui upwards and settling him inside the scant shelter an archway provided. Leaping upwards, he studied their surroundings before his face slid into a faint smirk.

"You're lucky I've already decided not to attack you, because you make a _very_ tempting target, Kamui-kun."

Kamui half ignored him, once again trying to weigh Fuuma's actions and finding himself lost in a circle of technicalities. There was also that strange mirage; Kamui tried to attribute that to long exposure to Hinoto and her superb illusionary dreams, in which feathers geometric shapes and other metaphorical symbols were prominent features.

Still, Kamui couldn't shake the strange feeling of uneasiness off, and the feeling that Fuuma had pulled him loose from whatever strange illusion he had been in. Part of him wanted to return to that trancelike state to further study the vision, but the tail end of Fuuma's words caught Kamui's attention, instead.

"Wait," Kamui asked, slowly raising his head, all other thoughts slowly dissolving away. He tried to meet his twin star's gaze to no avail. "Why are you suddenly adding on 'kun' to the back of my name?" The moment he uttered the words, other instances when Fuuma had tagged on the suffix rose to mind.

"_Really, Kamui-kun. I expected you to notice my presence long before I arrived here."_

"_Kamui-kun." _

"_And why would I give my nemesis the upper hand, Kamui-kun?" _

Fuuma watched his reactions calmly. "Does it bother you?"

Kamui shivered slightly. "It reminds me of the Sakurazukamori. The way he plays and toys with…" _Subaru_, he ended silently. The supposedly affection call of "Subaru-kun" seemed binding; the Sakurazukamori could easily lash down the omyouji's spirit with a simple whisper of those words.

There was that enigmatic smile again, although Kamui had no interpretation for the rest of Fuuma's full range of smirks, grins and cold smiles.

"Maybe, Kamui-_kun_, it's because I think of you the way the Sakurazukamori thinks of his precious Sumeragi. Fondly, with no little anticipation, and _constantly_."

Kamui twitched at the words, and something snagged onto the trail of his thought. Something about the Sakurazukamori, and his intentions towards Subaru. Kamui didn't know much; the omyouji was soft spoken on such matters and Kamui didn't pry. And how that related to Fuuma…

That realization hovered just out of his grasp. It was immensely frustrating; he strained to understand, to turn the puzzle over in a new light, but like a ball atop a high shelf, his efforts only pushed it away, its curved frame slipping fluidly from the tips of his fingers.

"Earlier," Kamui said slowly, "you said that we were temporarily out of Destiny's clutches. What did you mean?"

"It is whatever you think it to be. If you believe that for these short hours, we act of our own free will, than that is true – for you. Reality is what you make it to be."

Kamui stared out into the flurry of snow, coating the ground in a sheet of white. "And if I decide," he turned to face Fuuma squarely, "that I want to spend those hours with you, not fighting, not hurting each other… just being together?"

A soft breath in the air.

"Then that is your prerogative."

They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity. Then Kamui took a step, drawing closer to his twin star, not demanding, not questioning… just waiting.

Fuuma snapped forward, hands gripping Kamui's wrists possessively and pulled Kamui forward so the younger boy was lying flush against him. One cold, long finger slid down Kamui's cheek, tracing a path down his throat and over his collarbone.

"Kamui," Fuuma's voice was a breathy whisper by his ear. The fingers halted, just above Kamui's heart. "I'm not the old Fuuma."

Kamui's eyes slid shut under Fuuma's administrations. The reiteration stirred the shadows at the edge of his mind – he was so _close_ to figuring it all out, just one last step would put the entire puzzle into perspective – but it was all washed away by his thumping heartbeat.

He should be worried; it would be so easy for his twin star to force his fingers into Kamui's chest, crushing the fluttering life within negligently. But Fuuma wouldn't. And Kamui wondered why.

"Yes, Fuuma. I know you're not." You've told me so a number of times, Kamui added to himself.

_Then again, you're not exactly the Dark Kamui now, are you? Who are you? _

_I don't know anymore…_

The hand hovered a scant finger span above Kamui's chest. And then they were gone, and with a low chuckle, Fuuma told him, "Look up."

Kamui blinked opened his eyes and raised his head, barely registering a sprig of thorny green leaves surrounding a cluster of blood red berries. Fuuma's hands, which had returned to his cheek, were immensely distracting.

"Mistletoe?" He guessed haphazardly; CLAMP campus had been decked with the vegetation last week by overly enthusiastic school girls.

"Very good; it _is_ mistletoe." Laughter drifted at the edge of Fuuma's voice. "Now, Kamui-kun, can you tell me what people customarily do under mistletoe?"

Mildly affronted at the patient, "I'm talking to someone dense" tone Fuuma took, Kamui retorted, "Of course I do." The memory of _what_ those girls were trying to accomplish with the sprigs were burned into his mind. He'd learned quickly to avoid walking anywhere with a ceiling, although at times standing under a tree or even by a lamp post had its dangers. "Any two people caught under mistletoe are supposed to share..."

Kamui trailed off, staring at Fuuma. "A kiss?" He squeaked. The older boy was watching him gold eyes that threatened to devour him. There was a half-smile on his face.

"We should uphold long-standing traditions while humanity survives, don't you think?" he purred and leaned forward, catching a flabbergasted Kamui off guard.

The lips upon his own were firm, and when Kamui tried to pull back in shock they merely pursued him. Unable to escape, Kamui subsided, allowing Fuuma to deepen the kiss. He wasn't an expert on kisses, haven't never really participated in the activity, but Fuuma's lips were dominating, teasing with quick movements, just allowing Kamui a moment's notice before plunging into something different.

Fuuma tasted like _danger_, setting off warning bells ringing shrilling within the recesses of Kamui's mind. He tasted like an adrenaline rush and sleek sweat and tension all over and underlying all of that hunter's touch was something warmer like tangy almond, earthy and natural, still deadly but so incredibly _addictive_ and Kamui began to wonder if those shrill gongs weren't actually tower bells belting out the sheer _rightness_ of it all.

And if the burning warmth that spread wherever Fuuma touched him – the hand cupping his face, the arm wrapped around his waist, those inquisitive fingers hunting out the gaps between cloak, shirt and pants, under which silken skin lay – were any indication, Kamui most certainly enjoyed this activity.

So when Fuuma's tongue flicked across his lips, Kamui began to kiss back, mouth opening to taste Fuuma's flavor, soft and pliant and somehow forbidden.

With his eyes closed, touch and sensation were all Kamui had to focus on. The stiff wind, the warm sheltering arms around his frame and of course, those inexorable lips caressing his cheek, his closed eyelids, sliding a wet trail to nip playfully at one ear before returning to capture a second kiss.

His arms had slid around Fuuma's neck for support, the other boy half holding him upright and Kamui focused on the moment, letting all restraints flow away, all thoughts of the End of the World and Destiny pushed to a distant corner of his mind, locked away for the moment. He accepted that he was kissing his twin star, and at the same time acknowledged that he _wanted_ to in a calm release of emotion.

He didn't know what consequences that thought would bring about. For the moment, all he wanted was stay like this, to be with this man in this world of soft heated touches, feeling protected but _alive _with the electric bond between them and giving back that share of sheer feeling in an endless cycle.

"I can see your Wish, Kamui." Fuuma spoke by his ear, his words wisp of a sigh in the cold air. The words he spoke were for Kamui alone.

"Can you?" Kamui murmured, breath coming in gasps as Fuuma turned his attention to the tender spot just under his chin. A memory of his twin star licking the blood off his throat just moments after Fuuma took his position as the Dragon of Earth's Kamui flashed through his mind, but he pushed it irresolutely away. It was inconsequential now in light of this event.

"You realize this changes nothing?"

Kamui look straight up at Fuuma, studying those amber gold eyes, deep, secretive and yet somehow honest. He wondered if his own eyes reflected the same, and whether the vast sorrow had been banished just a little.

There had always been a bond between them, from that first meeting in the rain, the first acknowledgement of "we're best friends!" and the promises they made each other to Kamui's return to Tokyo and the ensuring chaos that followed. Tonight's encounter had only strengthened that bond – twisted and esoteric though that relationship had become.

"Does it really matter?" he asked.

Fuuma's eyes fluttered shut, an act of vulnerability that surprised Kamui before they flicked open like a gaze that was sharp and targeted. "It should." Bending forward to resume the medley of licks, nips and kisses, his words were almost lost amidst the touches. "But it doesn't."

Kamui didn't reply, and merely allowed his smile to speak for itself.

Perhaps on this ephemeral frosty December night, they'll be able to live the lifetime they never could experience.

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_**This fic turned against me and spawned out of nowhere. It was suppose to be some fluffy crack where Fuuma turns up, decides to be nice and kisses Kamui to oblivion but no, the reasonable side of my head kept clambering for reasons why Fuuma would do that… so this is the result. **_

_**Where did that mistletoe come from? Let's just say that either they're very lucky or Fuuma had already scouted out the area before hand and pinned it up himself. **_

_**A sort of sequel arc is already growing from this fic after I waded through hills and waters trying to get Fuuma down, which resulted in the strange-ish title. This fic can truly stand alone… but let's see where inspiration and free time stands before I commit myself. **_

_**I hoped you enjoyed this fic, and I'll shut up now. Merry Christmas! **_


End file.
